A Hogwarts Winter Tale
by mbxsd
Summary: Lena Mei - infamous for being the 'Ravenclaw Reject' at her school - tests her capabilities when a mysterious plot unravels at Hogwarts. Will Lena and her friends be able to solve the mystery and overcome the cold, bleak winter that surrounds it?
1. Chapter 1: A Letter to My Parents

_Well, here's my attempt at writing fanfiction.  
>I am part of a Harry Potter Next Gen roleplaying forum, and I'm including all of my forum-mates' characters into this little fic here.<br>Enjoy._

* * *

><p><strong>CHAPTER ONE: A Letter to My Parents<strong>

I'll always be a failure in my parents' eyes. Somehow, I just can't shake away that notion whenever I write them a letter.

_"Hey mom. Hey dad._

How are you? I heard Liverpool's doing okay. Finally getting out of the economic rut it was in for the past decade or so, eh?

_Well, as for me, schoolwork is the usual. I'm learning a lot in Astronomy and Herbology, but not so much in History. Thought I'd be honest with you. Anyway…"_

No no no. I scribble all over my paper because the sentences I've scrawled on it are too expressive. Plus, I've violated one sacred rule when it comes to writing messages to Asian parents: _never_ tell them how you're actually doing in class.

I sigh and try to think of how best to write the letter. Perhaps this time I should be more formal.

_"Dear mother and father,_

_I am pleased to inform you that my experience at Hogwarts has been a very enlightening and joyful one. Professor Dawn, my Astronomy teacher –"_

It doesn't work. This is not me. I pause and wonder if I should continue to write this letter in a farcical but well-mannered tone. Then I realize that it doesn't matter if I write them a meaningful message or not because my parents could hardly read English anyway. The only words they can discern from a composition are the titles of the courses I take and the letters "O," "E," "A," "P," "D" and "T."

After coming to the conclusion that drafting this letter is a waste of time, I place my quill in its inkwell and stretch out my arms.

"Looks like I'm not gonna receive a howler this Christmas," I say, well aware of the fact that there is nobody else in the room.

I leave my desk and plop myself down on my bed, all the while doubting the morality of my decision. It's been four years since I've started attending Hogwarts, and I haven't returned home during the winter breaks at all.

My parents, of course, don't seem to mind. As I browse the library or explore the castle's secret corridors, I often imagine them sipping a glass of wine together and cozying up on a king-sized bed located right underneath a portrait of the two of them in Paris. Besides, every time I send them a letter I always receive a curt reply asking about my academic activities.

There's one letter in my sock drawer that's a perfect example of this. It says:

_"Dear Lena,_

_We are glad to see you do well. Your father and I are very proud of you. But you must do better. If you are to become a famous witch one day, you must study._

_An O in Astronomy is not enough. You must get O's in all classes!_

_Love,  
>Your mother and father."<em>

I guess the reason why I've preserved this gem is because it contains this one sentence: "Your father and I are very proud of you." No matter how insincere it sounds, I always try to pretend that it really means what it says. Keeping up this attitude, I believe, prevents me from failing school altogether.


	2. Chapter 2: We Gathered Around the Hearth

**CHAPTER TWO: We Gathered Around the Hearth**

It is snowing and I could already feel the temperature drop inside the Ravenclaw common room. Too clumsy with matches to light up the furnace, I don my scarf and a heavy set of robes as I watch Lorcan and Lysander Scamander kindle the ancient contraption.

"What is the spell again?" Lysander asks his brother after taking out his wand.

"It should be _Infergo_ or something," Lorcan replies unsurely.

"Wait, no, I remember! It is _Incendio!_" exclaims Lysander.

"Hold on! Remember the last time you cast that spell? You almost set my hair on fire! I think it's better if I handle this."

"But you couldn't even remember the name!" Lysander retorts. "Let me do it!"

From behind them, I chuckle. "How many Ravenclaws does it take to light a fireplace?"

They turn to look at me simultaneously. Their weird telepathic twin senses tend to do that.

"It would be three if you helped," they say together.

I get up from the couch I was situated on and unearth my wand. "You see, if we had lighters we wouldn't have this problem."

The twins stare at me as if I've just spoken Mandarin.

"Let me try my hand at this." With a flick of my magical stick and the utterance of a single world, a spark of fire propels itself from the tip of my wand to the logs in the fireplace.

"Wow, Lena," they say in unison. "You're talented."

There is a hint of sarcasm in their remark but I am used to it and understand. People often act astonished whenever I successfully cast a spell, because in class I oftentimes slur my incantations and incinerate someone's textbook instead.

"Now that that's over with," I say as I return my wand to my right pocket, "How about you and I wander off to Hogsmeade?"

They grin impishly and point at each other. "Which one?"

Flustered, I hesitate to answer. This periodically happens to me because I've come to think of the twins as one identity. Lorcan and Lysander – how could I possible tell them apart? They both have glistening blond hair, lanky figures and devilish smiles. The only thing that distinguishes them is their heterochromia. They both have a pair of grey and brown irises, but Lysander has a grey eye on the left and a brown eye on the right, while Lorcan's eye colors are the reverse of his brother's.

But then, I stop hesitating and answer, "The both of you, of course."

The twins stop grinning and accept my invitation. In just a few moments, we venture towards Hogsmeade, blissfully unaware of the events that await us.


	3. Chapter 3: The Vanishing Train

**CHAPTER THREE: The Vanishing Train  
><strong>

Just as we've arrived at the main exit, a throng of students lugging suitcases and owl cages around impedes us

Among the crowd is a third year Gryffindor named Isolde Choi, who I recognize as that Korean girl that let me borrow _Charms for Dunderheads_ during my second year.

"What's going on?" I ask Isolde, who seems startled by my sudden confrontation.

"Oh! Uh… The Hogwarts Express got derailed," she mutters in a sweet and humble voice that makes it seem as if the annihilation of the Hogwarts Express is a commonplace thing.

"What?" the twins exclaim. "How are you going to get home then?"

"Well… Headmistress McGonagall says that we can all use floo powder to get home," she replies.

Meanwhile, I scan the area for any sign of the Headmistress. "Where is she?" I ask.

Isolde looks around with her round, bright eyes. "I don't know, but she said she'd be here in a second…"

"How long have you been here?" I ask once more.

Isolde shrugs. "About half an hour or so."

The twins muse about the situation as I further interrogate the reluctant Isolde. I could feel their telepathic twin senses tingle as they giggle at whatever is going through their minds.

"Maybe," Lysander begins, "Just maybe…"

Lorcan continues the sentence. "The Headmistress derailed the Hogwarts Express herself in order to hold us all hostage in this castle."

Lysander adds on to the story. "And is currently replacing all the floo powder in the school with some sinister ingredient that will turn us all into…"

And they say this together: "ZOMBIES!"

They lunge at us with wiggling fingers and, to my embarrassment, I yelp while Isolde stares at them blankly.

The twins comment on Isolde's fearlessness with the statement "A true Gryffindor at heart" before I playfully scold them for the ridiculousness of their supposition.

"Besides," I say, "There aren't really any zombies in the wizarding world, are there?"

The Scamander twins smirk and attempt to answer my question, but Isolde cuts them off.

"Zombies do not exist, per se, but there are undead creatures called Inferi that are only animate through the use of Necromancy. Dark wizards such as You-Know-Who have used them during the First and Second Wizarding Wars in an attempt to eradicate muggle heritage and take over the wizarding world. Since he has been effectively eliminated by the Boy Who Lived, it is unlikely that Inferi will rise up to terrorize us once again."

We all look at her with astonished looks on our faces.

"Why aren't _you_ in Ravenclaw?" the twins ask simultaneously. I can't help but feel irked by this statement, but manage to keep my opinion silent.

Isolde blushes. "Well, the Sorting Hat did consider placing me in Ravenclaw, but…"

Her sentence is rendered incomplete by a sudden announcement from the other side of the room.

"All the floo powder is gone!"

A hundred gaping expressions have just replaced the worried visages of my classmates.

"I am sorry to say this," Headmistress McGonagall continues as she walks towards us, "But it seems that none of you will be going home this winter break."


	4. Chapter 4: A Talk With the Headmistress

**CHAPTER FOUR: A Talk With the Headmistress  
><strong>

"Can't you just apparate us all to Platform 9 ¾?" an anxious first year asks.

"Apparition is impossible within Hogwarts grounds, as there are jinxes that prevent anybody from casting the spell," McGonagall replies.

"Can't you just lift the jinxes then?" another student suggests.

"For every moment the jinxes are inactive, Hogwarts subjects itself to invasion and disorder. We will not allow that to happen."

"What about portkeys?"

"The Ministry of Magic has banned the use of Portkeys inside Hogwarts due to past events involving them."

"Then we could just fly home on our broomsticks!"

"I would like to see you try and make it back alive."

There was no other alternative. Hogwarts, it seemed, would be a full house this winter break.

"Lorcan," I hear Lysander mutter to his brother, "Do you smell anything…"

"Fishy? Yes," his brother mutters back.

"Oh, you guys!" I snap. "There's no way the Headmistress is trying to keep us hostage. She loves the school and the students that attend it."

"Yeah? That's not what mum says." They grow closer to me and whisper in my ear: "Mum says that McGonagall is a Kneazle in disguise. You know what Kneazles are… Right?"

Before I could admit "No I do not" I hear Isolde's whimpers from behind me.

The twins and I immediately cease our conversation and go over to console the poor Gryffindor. She is in a miserable state – her silky black hair is in shambles, her clear skin has turned rose red, and her bright eyes are flooded with tears. I can't help but wonder why she is like this.

"What's wrong?" we ask.

"My… My…" Isolde struggles to sound out her words in between sniffles and sobs. "My_ halmoni_is sick, and I wanted to see her before… before…"

Her sadness evolves into full-blown hysteria and has attracted the attention of every person around us.

"Hey! Scamanders!" a familiar voice calls out. We turn to the direction from where it came from, but before we could identify its owner Lysander and Lorcan are punched deftly in the face. Stunned, they fall to the ground without crying in pain.

"You did all this, did you?" It's Gwen Jones – a fifth year Gryffindor. I try to restrain her, but her shouting continues. "You thought it'd be funny to steal all the floo powder as some sorta prank, huh? And now you've gone and upset Isolde?"

Gwen pushes me away and kneels down to embrace her distraught friend. "It's okay, I'm here…" I hear her whisper gently.

Just as the Scamander twins recuperate, Gwen strikes them with a menacing glare. "Don't you know that her grandma is sick? And now she can't go home to take care of her?"

"No, you've got it all wrong -!" they say together.

"And besides, what's with you and this whole speaking in unison thing? It's really creepy!"

"But we can't help – "

"Cut it off!"

"Woah, woah, woah." Another one of our Gryffindor friends – Fred Weasley – joins the situation with a bulky leather bag by his side. "Calm down, Ms. Jones, I'm sure the Scamander twins were just trying to help her out."

Gwen looks at Fred with a sneer. "Butt out of this, Weasley." Her cat-like blue eyes are sharp enough to frighten any guy who's angered her; but Fred has been exposed to her hostility long enough to know how to react accordingly.

"Ms. Jones," he says as he flicks a bronze lock of hair from his forehead. "Please reflect upon your actions for a bit and think like a rational person."

This advice angers Gwen, who continues her tirade. "You think I'm not being rational? I've seen – "

"Gw-Gwen…" Isolde mutters. "It's ok. Fred is… Fred is right. The Scamanders… were just helping…"

At the sound of Isolde's words, Gwen calms down. It seems as if a dark cloud has been lifted from her visage, revealing a penitent side of the hot-tempered Gryffindor that is rarely seen.

Isolde's whimpers subside soon after, and Gwen stands up to face Fred at eye level. "I'm sorry," she says with a hint of restraint in her inflection.

Fred smirks. There is something in his expression that seems to declare a long-desired victory of some sort. "Apology accepted, Ms. Jones, but you should apologize to the Scamanders too."

Gwen turns to face the twins, who stand behind me – intimidated by her presence.

"I'm SOR-REE," she shouts while mouthing out her words for emphasis.

The twins nod, signaling that they've accepted her apology and are willing to stand freely within her vicinity once again.

As they set me aside and walk over to start a conversation with Gwen, Isolde and Fred, I shift my attention to my surroundings.

I notice that many students, dejected at the fact that they could not return home this winter break, have retreated to their dormitories. Only a few – such as Gwen, Isolde and Fred – have stayed to chat with their friends for a bit.

Meanwhile, I feel as if I am alone as I stand and watch my friends socialize. Their conversation has become muddled in my ears, for it seems mundane to me and I do not wish to partake in it. I can't help but feel, however, magnetized towards their circle.

But something stops me from moving towards them. A bony hand has rested upon my left shoulder, and I turn back to identify its owner.

"Ms. Mei." Upon realizing that the Headmistress has confronted me, I at once feel a spasm of panic, wrongfully thinking that she has come to lecture me about my grades. "Can I talk to you for a second?"

I nervously say "sure" and follow her to an area not far from where my friends are, but distant enough so that I could not hear their chatter.

"Do you know who took the floo powder?" The Headmistress' question startles me because I don't know how to answer it.

"N-no…" I reply.

"I've heard rumours that your friends – Lorcan and Lysander Scamander – may have taken it, and I just want to confirm if this is true."

I cock my brow and cannot answer for sure, but I am acquainted with the twins well enough to know that they would never steal anything for a prank without telling me or Fred about it first.

"I don't think so, no," I say more confidently this time.

McGonagall smiles wryly at me. "Very well then. Than you very much, Ms. Mei."

As she walks away, I immediately feel the tension flow out of me. But I freeze up again when she halts and calls my name.

"By the way, Ms. Mei."

"Y-yes?"

"Professor Brightwood consulted me about your grades a few days ago. I am upset. You used to do very well in Transfiguration. What happened?"

I compulsively want to say something along the lines of "Her class became boring ever since she started cramming us for the O.W.L.s" but I know that as a former Transfiguration professor herself, McGonagall would be offended. Therefore, I resort to saying something sugar-coated like "I don't know. I guess it just doesn't interest me anymore."

"That's a shame," McGonagall says with a frown. "Brightwood used to speak highly of you, but ever since you received your first D in her class she's become concerned. Why don't you stop by her office later this evening to discuss the situation?"

I want to reject the offer, but my fear of insulting the Headmistress prevents me from doing so. "I'll see if I have time."

McGonagall smiles again, nods approvingly, and bids me farewell. Her robes billow behind her, signaling the departure of the grand witch that has just confronted me – Lena Mei, the Ravenclaw Reject.

Lorcan, Lysander and Fred, meanwhile, have left Gwen and Isolde in order to meet up with me.

"She's a bit of a vixen, isn't she?" Fred says to the twins before they greet me.

"Yes, but she's rather attractive, you have to admit," Lorcan replies shamelessly.

As they approach me, I wave and ask about their plans.

"We just thought we'd go to Gryffindor Tower with Fred, relax there for a bit and then go to Hogsmeade," answers Lysander.

I approve of their plan and follow them towards the staircase. During our trip, I can't help but space out and ponder about the situations that have just risen up in Hogwarts.

For example, why would the Hogwarts Express suddenly get derailed? The cold weather, I understand, could have weakened the tracks and caused it to break when the train's wheels ran over it, but I also suspect that the maintenance crew would've inspected the conditions before anything could happen. I make a mental note to research the Hogwarts Express and its management system before the end of the day.

Another thing I think about is the floo powder incident. My intuition tells me that the Scamander twins could not have possibly stolen it, but I conclude that it is best to confirm it with them in order to know for sure. The twins are usually honest, and even if they lie, I could tell right off the bat. Therefore, a simple answer from them should be sufficient enough evidence to lead me to a conclusion.

I decide to wait until we reach the Gryffindor common room to ask them the question that's been nagging at me ever since my conversation with McGonagall.

But for now, the staircases below me are moving, and I have to concentrate on making it past the next step.


	5. Chapter 5: A Meeting in the Library

**CHAPTER FIVE: A Meeting in the Library**

"Candelabra."

With the utterance of a single word, a portrait slides over and reveals a hole to us. The twins, Fred and I promptly crawl through as if we are little rats scurrying into our homes.

The Gryffindor common room is a familiar sight to all of us. The twins and I walk in as if we are a part of the house, and settle ourselves upon the plush sofas as Fred wanders over to his dormitory to unpack his stuff.

The twins are the first to initiate a conversation. I listen intently to their speech, hoping to absorb any details that may refute the ongoing rumours about them.

"What should we do in Hogsmeade?" Lorcan asks.

I shrug and wait for Lysander to answer. He usually has more creative responses than I do.

"Well, since the snow is fresh…"

"Brilliant idea, brother!" Before Lysander could finish his sentence, Lorcan already seems to know the rest of his idea. "We could build a snow fort with Lena and Fred!"

"And use it to protect ourselves as we throw snowballs at passersby!"

"Yes, that was precisely what I was going at! But how about this – "

"Guys," I interrupt, knowing that if I don't stop them, they will discuss this invention of theirs forever.

They pause and look at me with agitated stares. They hate being intercepted whenever they are enraptured by a brilliant new plan they're formulating.

"Yes, Lena?" they say in unison.

"I was just thinking… er…" I try to find a way to change the topic of the conversation to floo powder, but I end up hesitating as I try to forge an idea. "Well, what if people get… mad?"

They raise their brows, giggle and say to me in a matter-of-fact tone, "You know better than that, Lena."

"If someone gets mad, then we just have to cheer them up by playing en even _funnier_joke on them," Lorcan says.

"Besides, our goal is to bring humor and joy to Hogwarts with our pranks. Anybody who doesn't appreciate that doesn't deserve our attention," adds Lysander.

I know. They've made their creed apparent to me since we've first met, and I can't help but feel that I've upset them with my question. However, in order to accomplish my goal I must persist.

"The reason why I ask this is," I say with a gulp, "is that I'm not sure our classmates will be in the mood for pranks today, what with them not being able to go home and all."

"Balderdash," remarks Lorcan. "If anything, it would make them happier that they're at Hogwarts because they get to partake in some of our comedy."

I can find no other way to ask my question. I have to be straightforward now.

"But you see, I'm not sure if anybody would want your comedy right now because… Well, people think you've stolen all the floo powder."

There is a moment of silence, and I immediately feel guilty for phrasing my statement that way. Perhaps I should have waited until later, or..?

"You're thinking back to what Gwen said earlier, right?" Lysander asks.

"I thought she only said that because she was angry and it was the first thing that popped into her mind once she saw us with Isolde," says Lorcan.

"Well… Is it true? Did you really steal the floo powder?" I ask finally.

"Of course not," they both reply confidently. The conviction in their tone tells me that they're telling the truth, and I let out a sigh of relief.

"That's good!" I exclaim proudly.

"Who came up with that bloody lame idea anyway?" Lorcan questions with a scowl. "Do they want to frame us and make us look bad? We wouldn't plan something like that!"

"Yeah!" Lysander continues. "Besides, we wanted to go home too. If mum and dad weren't going on a business adventure we would totally look forward to using the floo powder to return to Devon."

"If we were caught in Fred's situation then we would be downright irate!"

"And we'd set ourselves on a mission to hunt down the sod thief."

Witnessing a Scamander rant is a rare and interesting moment. They complete each other's thoughts more frequently, but in a way that makes it seem as if they were talking to the air. I listen on, completely fascinated.

"Besides, what would we do with floo powder? Sprinkle it on our foreheads and pretend we're sparkling vampires bent on scaring first years?"

"There is no good reason."

This discovery has prompted me to ask more questions. Who could have framed the twins and why? Gwen is one possible suspect. She was the one who mentioned it in the first place. But what reason would she have for doing this? Granted, Gwen tends to be a bit impulsive and irrational when she's angry, but her relationship with the twins is not strained enough to justify spreading this nasty rumour.

Should I investigate further? I don't want to confront Gwen and probe her for answers, but I really want to find the person responsible for all this mess.

Just a few moments later, my thoughts are discontinued when Fred enters the room.

"Hey guys, are you all ready?" he asks.

The Scamander twins, visibly perturbed by the conversation we had, reluctantly get up and sigh. "Yeah, yeah, we're ready," they say.

"What's up?" Fred asks, noticing their troubled expressions.

The Lysander twins refuse to answer, and I can sense that they want me to explain it for them.

I walk towards Fred and say to him in a hushed tone, "The twins are upset because someone spread a rumour claiming that they've stolen the floo powder."

Fred frowns. "Oh," he says. "Do you know who did it?"

I shake my head. I wish I knew.

* * *

><p>We manage to brighten the twins' moods by helping them improve upon the snow fort plan they formulated earlier. Their once sour attitudes have been replaced with jubilant smiles and frolicking.<p>

We prepare to set off to the first floor, but a chill runs up my spine when I see two of my professors walking down the same path we intend to take.

One of them is Katrina Sinclair – the Charms professor that has been failing me since my second year. I hear her say something along the lines of, "Let's go to Honeydukes and buy some candied apples" to the person right next to her.

I turn my attention to her friend, and my heart drops.

_"Shit,"_I whisper to myself. The friend I see right next to her is Jonah Brightwood – the Transfiguration professor that wanted to see me in her office.

Wanting to avoid an unpleasant confrontation, I quickly make up my mind to ditch Fred and the twins.

"Sorry guys," I say as they prepare to descend the first staircase. "I have to go. I just realized that I have… uh… to meet up with a professor about… something."

Before they could shoot me surprised looks, I scamper off to the opposite end of the corridor. Finally out of sight from my friends and the teachers, I walk calmly towards a secret passageway I've found during my third year.

Since I can no longer return to Fred and the Scamanders without appearing like a fool, I decide to go to the library in order to fulfill my self-made promise on researching the Hogwarts Express.

The passageway is not far from the Gryffindor common room, but hidden in an area that's often overlooked. A rusty and empty cauldron lies in this region, and one simply needs to peer into it to discover that a hole lies at its bottom.

I jump into the cauldron and land in a narrow tunnel not far from the surface. I quickly make my way through it, and soon enough, I arrive at a corridor near the library entrance.

Upon entering the library, I find that it is nearly vacant. This fact does not surprise me very much, as I expect most people to be relaxing in their dorms or hanging out with their friends during their winter break.

But there is one person sitting at a table somewhere in the middle of the lobby: a fourth-year Slytherin named Emmeline Trottenburg.

She is surrounded by a pile of books and parchment paper, and seems too absorbed by her studies to notice my entrance. Because of this, she is like a fixed aspect of the library; like a piece of furniture or pillar that is simply _there_.

Not wanting to search through numerous dusty shelves for a single book, I decide to sit next to Emmeline and ask her for information about the topic I want to discuss.

"Hello," I say as politely as I can. Emmeline is known for being petulant whenever she's disturbed from her reading, so it is best to approach her in a calm and courteous manner.

The Slytherin turns to look at me with her bespectacled eyes. Her face is rather hard to look at, as it has probably the dirtiest and most unkempt features anybody's laid eyes upon. Her monobrow hasn't been tweezed since Merlin knows when, and hair is always visible from the large rifts she calls nostrils.

Her dark blond hair is long and greasy, and her spine is always curved at such a strange angle that it makes people wonder how she manages to sit comfortably like that all day.

But while most people insult and shun her based on her appearances, I can't help but wonder what the person beneath all the hair, acne and grease must be like.

I've only had a few encounters with Emmeline throughout my entire school year, and from what I've gathered she's incredibly knowledgeable and even helpful at times.

"Greetings, Ms. Mei. You know, I was in the middle a very _illuminating_passage before you've interrupted me." The tone of her voice is very pompous and derisive, but I manage to stand my ground and continue the conversation with ease.

"I apologize, Ms. Trottenburg, but I am in need of your assistance."

"In a moment, Ms. Mei." She finishes reading the passage of her book, places a bookmark in between its pages, and settles it on the desk. The title, I notice, is _An Analysis of the Causes and Effects of the Second Wizarding War_. "What is it that you need from me?"

"I've been wondering if you know anything about the Hogwarts Express and how it's managed."

She cocks a brow. "Your statement is vague. Please elaborate."

I clear my throat. "Well, it's been nagging at my mind for a while… Er, how do I explain?" I take a moment to piece together my words, much to Emmeline's vexation. "Ok, so… The Hogwarts Express got derailed today."

Emmeline frowns and nods her head. "Go on."

"And because it seems to be an uncommon occurrence, I assumed that faulty maintenance could have lead to its demise. But since I imagine the crew to be vigilant in ensuring the welfare of the train and its passengers, I can't help but think that something else may have lead to the Express's downfall. So tell me… What exactly goes on in the system?"

Emmeline takes a moment to think. There is something about her expression that seems strained while coming up with an answer.

"The train is powered by magic," she begins, "but only to a certain extent. If it falls, therefore, it has no way of returning itself to the tracks."

I nod to show that I understand where she's going at.

"External factors – such as weather – may have played a part in its derailment. Since the management crew has no control over the weather, it is likely that the train was simply blown off by a very powerful storm."

I find a way to question her response, but nothing comes to mind. Perhaps the train was simply caught in a bad storm after all. "Thank you, Emmeline," I say with a smile.

Emmeline nods curtly, and returns to reading her book. Not wanting to leave so early after I got here, however, I decide to stay at the library for a while and keep Emmeline company.

I gaze blankly at the cover of her book and can't help but wonder why she would read about the Second Wizarding War. So, out of curiosity, I interrupt her with a question again. "Erm, Emmeline..?"

She violently closes her book and says in an aggravated tone, "What?"

I flinch. Perhaps it was best to not have interrupted her. But knowing that she'd get even more annoyed if I said "Nevermnd" I go on with asking my question.

"Why are you reading about the Second Wizarding War?"

"Because it's an event that greatly interests me, and I would like to learn more about its intricacies. Does that satisfy you?"

"Well, wouldn't it be more enlightening if you discussed it with Professor Longbottom or Headmistress McGonagall? I mean, they were in the war after all."

"Longbottom? That oaf? Bah! That man can't properly explain the process of potting a Mandrake, much less explain what the War was like! I don't want to talk to such a horrid, inane, uncoordinated – "

Emmeline's reply surprises me. Longbottom is a rather popular teacher at Hogwarts, and I haven't heard anybody insult him until now. "Why don't you like him?"

Emmeline lets out a sigh of frustration. "Because I _know_everything in the course already, and every time I try to correct him, Longbottom unjustly takes points off my grade."

I sympathize with Emmeline. The dictatorial rule of professors agitates me as well, but I'm not sure if I would go so far as to say that I know everything they're trying to teach.

"Well then, if you're uncomfortable with talking to Longbottom, then you don't have to." I get up from my seat and prepare to leave the library. "Farewell."

Emmeline briefly waves goodbye, picks up her book again and returns to her reading.

Upon leaving the library, I feel a bad vibe linger inside me. Talking with Emmeline has left me feeling offended, and I can't shake off the feeling that what people say about her is true.

But I feel bad for her. Every time I see her sitting alone in the library, there is a strange desire for me to go over there and keep her company. I haven't seen her talk amicably to anybody else in the school, so sometimes I feel that it is my duty to make her feel as wanted as possible.

Or perhaps I'm just trying to fulfill my own yearnings - to feel less isolated in a world that offers me no intimate companions.


	6. Chapter 6: Rejoice

**CHAPTER SIX: Rejoice**

I saunter the third floor corridors not knowing what else to do. The brisk, empty air, the suits of armor that stand soldier-like against the stone walls, the occasional flicker of candle-light and the portraits that eerily follow my impromptu path with their prying eyes are the only things that offer me solace.

I begin to wonder if enough time has elapsed to allow me to return to Fred and the Twins without rousing their suspicions. My excuse for ditching them was haphazardly made, I admit, and my friends are intelligent enough to surmise that I was lying to them. So I ask myself: if I go to Hogsmeade, will I be bombarded by a myriad of snowballs by a trio of angry pranksters?

My mind answers for itself: yes. Because of that, I stop walking and find a warm corner to sit idly upon.

I hug my knees, stare at my feet and begin to ruminate upon the circumstances I've involved myself in. My thoughts shift from the conversation I had with Emmeline, to the floo powder rumours and then to my imminent visit to Professor Brightwood's office. They all eventually spill into a convoluted pile of muddled cogitations, tempting my brain to cave in and shut itself off. But instead, I shake my head, sigh and try to think of more pleasant things like chocolate frogs and Pygmy Puffs but to no avail.

This is why I hate being alone.

Suddenly, I hear the faint sound of someone's voice a short distance away, so I perk up and try to make it seem as if I were doing something other than loitering around.

"… And then I said to Professor Fancourt, 'Frankly my dear, he doesn't give a damn!'"

Several chuckles resonate throughout the hall, and slowly, I see their shadows creep through the corner.

"Binns is probably just peeved that he can't torture students anymore." This voice causes me to spring to my feet. Its wonderful cadence and soothing familiarity no doubt belongs to the one and only Wayne Yeung.

My heart beats wildly as I brush off dust from my robes and try to keep up a cool façade. If Wayne were to see me in any sort of awkward position, then I wouldn't know how to redeem myself.

"Hey, look! Somebody's here."

Wayne and two of his Hufflepuff friends – Alex and Benny – finally arrive at the corner and approach me.

"It's Lena," Wayne points out with that trademark white smile of his.

I don't know how to react when I finally see him. A blinding flash of light emanates from his outline, preventing me from fully comprehending the nature of his presence. I feel so awed, so overwhelmed, that I cannot utter a word in reponse.

Wayne, why are you here? Is it because you have come to offer me the companionship I so desperately desire? Have you sensed my insidious loneliness and come to vanquish it once and for all?

Whatever the reason may be, Wayne, allow me to fully accept your welcoming embrace! Hold me! Solace me! Never let me go!

"Er… Lena?"

Wayne's voice snaps me out of my reverie and I immediately feel flustered. Have I uttered something clandestine during my state of semi-consciousness?

"What are you looking at?"

_"You,"_is the first thing that comes to mind but I restrain myself from speaking it. Instead, I look for something behind him that I may name as an excuse for my sudden lapse into fantasy.

"Uh… I'm sorry I was just looking at…" From around the corner, I see a dark figure. It looks like it's peeking at us from behind the wall, but it quickly disappears before I could identify what it is. "A rat… Behind you."

Wayne and his friends turn to look, but see no rat at where I was pointing at.

"It ran away," I say quickly.

"Huh," Alex says. "Well would you fancy that?" He smirks at me, and I tense up. Of Wayne's two constant friends, Alex is the only one that knows of my affinity towards the star student. "Let's go guys; before any more rats come."

Benny nods and tugs at Wayne's sleeve. "Let's go."

"Wait," At the sound of Wayne's command, I feel as if I am about to burst. "Let's ask Lena if she wants to follow us." He faces me. "How about it?"

"To where?" I ask.

"The trophy room," he replies.

The trophy room? Ah, I should have known. Wayne and his Quidditch friends frequent the trophy room in order to ensure that their prizes are not vandalized. One incident occurred during their second year, when a group of jealous Slytherins destroyed the Hufflepuff Quidditch Cup – the first that Wayne has ever won. This prompted the trio to check upon and protect their trophies as often as possible.

"I would love to," I say unsurely. One glance at Alex, however, convinces me to reject the offer. My fear of him picking on me and eliciting my crush for Wayne is perturbing. "But I'm afraid I have to decline."

Wayne seems upset by my response. "Why?"

Yet another excuse I have to make. "Professor Brightwood wants me to help her out at her office."

"Very well," Wayne offers me his hand, and I mistakenly think he wants to shake it as a farewell gesture, but instead he does a complicated hand motion I often see performed by Quidditch players after a good match. "Bye, Lena. Hopefully we'll bump into each other again."

He smiles at me, and I smile back.

"Goodbye."

* * *

><p>For a long moment, I sit in the Ravenclaw common room with a cup of Gillywater in one hand and a book in the other. It is rather crowded; I see a couple of first years surrounding the fireplace, two third years playing Wizard's Chess, and a group of seventh-years chatting by one of the frosted windows. The contents of my book, however, have enraptured me so much that my surroundings seem like a blur. I do not pay attention to the vociferous conversations, bright lights and lively movements that run rampant in the background. Instead, I focus on the vivid setting and characters described in the novel I'm reading, and constantly wonder what's going to happen next.<p>

But my concentration is cut short when several people enter through the door on the opposite side of the room.

"That was bloody hilarious!" Fred's exclamation attracts the attention of everybody within my vicinity. I then find myself glancing at him, returning to my book, covering my face with said book, and sinking into my chair. My fear of Fred and the twins reprimanding me for ditching them courses rapidly through my veins, and I try desperately to avoid the gaze of their spotlight.

But it doesn't work.

"Hey Lena!" the Scamander twins dash towards me, slap away my book and throw me into their arms. "How was your visit with the professor?" There is a hint of sarcasm in their question, and I can tell that they know I've been bullshitting them.

"It was… Enlightening. Very enlightening," I reply as my cheeks rub against their robes and scarves, which are damp from the snow they've been playing in. "Your clothes are wet, by the way."

They let go of me and feel each other's garments for a few seconds, and then proceed to strip off their clothes, much to the delight of the girls around them.

"Hey hey hey!" A different but familiar voice intervenes. At the entrance, I see Teddy Lupin holding his set of wet Gryffindor robes. "Lorcan, Lysander, I don't think this is the right place to be dressing down."

The twins, now shirtless, turn to Teddy and shrug. "Everybody likes it." They then look at me and wink. "Right, Lena?"

I blush as I try to prevent myself from staring at their pale but glistening abs. The girls around me, however, are practically salivating at the sight and show no effort in restraining their amorous feelings.

"Hello, Lena? I'm done writing my let – What's going on?" Suddenly, Victoire enters the common room from our dormitory and sets her eyes on the half-naked twins. "What are you fools doing? This is not…!" She then notices Teddy, and turns silent.

"Salutations, Victoire!" Teddy, with his hands full, walks over to my blond dorm-mate and kisses her cheek. "You were done writing what?"

Victoire is at a loss of words and could barely contain her excitement. "I was done writing… Writing my letter… To home! Yes! My parents would be upset if I didn't write to them."

"That's good. It's a shame we can't go home this winter," Ted replies. "But at least we get to celebrate Christmas with our friends at Hogwarts, right?"

"Friends, yes…" Victoire smiles squeamishly. "Friends."

She seems to fidget for a moment, as if plotting a move that could get her closer to Ted. She eyes the clothes in his arms, and abruptly requests that she bring them down to the laundry room.

"Oh, these? No, it's fine. I can dry them myse-"

"No no, I insist! I was planning on going downstairs anyway." Victoire quickly seizes the bundle and holds it possessively. "It will be dry in a moment, Teddy." With that, she quickly makes her way towards the exit.

"Wait, Victoire!" The twins and Fred run up to her and shove their wet clothing into her arms. "Can you clean our robes too?"

Victoire, irritated by the sudden requests forced upon her, tries to reject their commands but is stopped short by Teddy's comment.

"Thank you, Victoire. It's very nice of you to help us like that."

Victoire blushes and kindly but grudgingly acquiesces to their demands. "I will be back in a few moments." And with that, she leaves.

The Scamander twins plop themselves upon the nearest sofa and wrap their bare arms over their bare shoulders. "Let's have some refreshing butterbeer. Ladies?"

Two girls skitter away to make some butterbeer for the twins while Teddy, Fred and I sit next to them in a circle and talk.

"How was your snow battle?" I ask curiously.

"Epic, my dear. Simply epic," Lorcan replies. "We started off by building our forts."

"And then suddenly, Teddy appears," Lysander adds.

"They were making some rather intense forts," Teddy comments. "They looked like mini Roman castles, I swear."

I laugh as I try to picture the forts in my head. _"Roman castles,"_ I think to myself, _"I shouldn't expect less from the Scamander twins."_

The twins continue their narration. "Then we decide to split into two groups."

"I was paired with Teddy while the twins, of course, were in their own team," Fred replies.

"And then we had a battle to see who could take down the other fort," says Teddy.

"We only had the most sophisticated artillery," Lysander says. "Enchanted snowmen, ice cannons, sleet zombies… It completely devastated them."

Lorcan nods proudly. "We won singlehandedly."

"Lies and slander!" Fred exclaims. "It wasn't that easy."

"_We_had some pretty cool weaponry ourselves," Teddy asserts. "We fortified our structure with charms that melted their ammo as soon as it hit us."

"I also got some of the nearby animals to infiltrate their stronghold," says Fred, who's well known for being one of the top students in Care of Magical Creatures.

I giggle jovially at their story and can't help but imagine how the citizens of Hogsmeade must have reacted to their battle. Images of staring children and gaping elders pop into my mind, and I giggle even more intensely than before.

"What about you, Lena?" asks one of the twins. "What did _you_do?"

My laughter immediately stops. "I uh… Went to Professor Brightwood's office," I lie terribly, knowing that they definitely saw Brightwood at Hogsmeade.

Fred and the twins cock their brows. "And what did you do?"

"Home… work…" I can feel their gazes penetrate into the depths of my soul, searching effortlessly for the truth.

"You ditched us, didn't you?"

I gulp. "Yes."

"Why would you do that, Lena?" Fred places his dark-skinned hand upon my shoulder and I sigh upon his touch.

"Okay, truth be told, I was trying to _avoid_Brightwood because I saw her right in front of us."

"And…?"

"And… I really am supposed to meet her at her office, but I'm too chicken to actually go there."

They cross their arms and look at me sternly. The twins, especially, don't look too pleased to hear about my intentions.

Shame wells up inside of me because I know that they don't like it when I avoid schoolwork. I know they mean well, but the pressure they place upon me aggravates me a lot.

Teddy, however, is the only one that attempts to console me. "You don't have to lie to them, Lena."

"I know," I say meekly. "I'm sorry."

Fred and the twins seem reluctant to accept my apology.

"It's one thing that you ditch us," Lysander says.

"And it's another that you lie to us," says Lorcan.

"But it's something entirely different when you avoid responsibility and shun your schoolwork," they say together.

Great. I hear this lecture countless times from my parents, and now my friends are doing the same thing too. Just great. I clench my fists and try to utter an anger-induced retort, but Teddy quickly calms me down.

"How about this, Lena: tomorrow, I'll follow you to Professor Brightwood's office and we could talk to her together."

His offer is tempting. Having Teddy around would make my meeting with Professor Brightwood much more comfortable, but my fear of provoking the ire of a hundred Teddy fangirls tugs at my conscience.

_"Whatever,"_ I say in my head. _"Those fangirls can assume what they want. I'm going to Brightwood's office with Teddy. My decision is final."_

"Sure, Teddy, that's a great idea!" I say. "Thanks for the offer."

Teddy smiles and gives me a one armed hug. "You're very welcome."

Fred and the twins ease their expressions, and nod approvingly at my decision. Then, two girls return with several glasses of butterbeer, and they sit next to us to enjoy the drinks. We all chat by the fireside, tell stories together, share jokes together, laugh together…

And it's times like these that make me glad to be in Hogwarts.


	7. Chapter 7: Framing the Twins

**CHAPTER SEVEN: Framing the Twins**

During winter, it is rare to see the Great Hall as boisterous and lively as it is today. With everybody staying at Hogwarts, all four tables are jam-packed with famished students eager to dine on their evening meals.

I sit next to Victoire and the twins as I admire the Yule-themed decorations that are on display. Holly plants, Christmas wreathes, wizard crackers and striped candy line the walls and tables of the room. But the focal point of the décor lies by the teachers' table: a large, festive pine tree bright with colourful tokens and trinkets wrapped around its branches. The twins, who have never stayed at Hogwarts during the winter before, are delighted to see the decorations.

"Get me one of those peppermint candies, Lorcan!" Lysander commands his brother as he points at a floating basket of candy across the table.

Lorcan reaches over to grab a handful of sweets, which he happily shares with his brother, Victoire and me.

"It's very nice, isn't it?" I say. "The décor changes slightly every year."

"It's wonderful," Lorcan remarks, "but you know what would make it even better?"

There is a pause before the twins answer in unison: "Snow yetis."

"Why the bloody hell should we have a snow yeti in the Great Hall?" Victoire snaps with a scowl.

"Because," says Lorcan, "The danger of having a yeti adds to the excitement."

I chuckle at their whimsical idea, then nudge Victoire and encourage her to settle down. "They're not really going to pull it off anyway."

Victoire eases her expression, but still looks at the twins with a tense gaze. She tends to keep up a serious - sometimes even hostile - attitude when around other people, but whenever I'm with her I try my best to keep her calm. Usually, my methods work.

"Maybe you're right. Maybe the yetis will make the Hall more interesting," Victoire says – her tone changing to a more caustic one. "But only if you two are the sole people in the room."

She giggles at her own remark, and I reluctantly jerk a smile. The twins, on the other hand, are surprisingly amused by her statement.

"Lorcan and Lysander," they say, "the yeti tamers…"

Suddenly, our conversations are interrupted by one of the Headmistress' announcements.

"Students!" she booms, successfully grabbing our attention. "I am well aware that for many of you, this is your first winter break at Hogwarts. And as it is your first break, it will also be your first time celebrating Christmas at school."

Some people in the audience nod.

"Now allow me to make this clear: we have not made any progress in finding the floo powder, but once we find out where it is and who stole it, you will all be able to return home for the remainder of the break and the perpetrators will be severely punished."

The students whisper amongst themselves. I manage to pick up on a few lines of dialogue, which include gossip like "I heard the Scamanders stole it" and "Yeah, me too. Who woulda thought?" The twins, much to their chagrin, hear them too, and glare menacingly at any classmate who dares to point fingers at them.

"But do not worry! We have events planned for you during your time here. Professor Hunter – who you know is our Ancient Runes professor – was kind enough to make a list of activities that will take place within Hogwarts grounds."

McGonagall gives the spotlight to Hunter, who boldly stands up and unravels a scroll. Light shines down on his handsome face as he reads. Everybody is enraptured by his voice.

"Good evening fellow Hogwarts students. As the headmistress has just announced, there will be special events planned throughout the break. They will take place both inside and around the castle. But please be reminded that restricted areas such as the Forbidden Forest are still strictly OFF LIMITS. Any student caught in these areas will be punished justly." He clears his throat as he begins to read from his scroll. "Now, allow me to begin. There will be ice-skating in the Black Lake, cauldron cake eating contests at Honeydukes, Quidditch matches in the stadium…"

My attention wavers as he reads the list. I feel as if I am in a class, being lectured on a topic I know will never serve me any practical purpose. As I space out, however, I spot a short creature waddling past my table. Upon further inspection, I notice that it is a grumpy looking house elf holding two sets of robes.

"Attention! Attention!" the elf cries as Hunter's voice slowly fades to a halt. "ATTENTION!"

Upon hearing the third cry, everybody – even Hunter – pauses to look at the house elf.

The elf jumps on top of the Slytherin table, much to the surprise of the surrounding students. "I have… in me arms… TWO sets of robes."

He lifts the robes for all to see, and my heart skips a beat when I notice that they belong to Lorcan and Lysander. I glance at the twins and notice that they, too, are in shock.

"They belong to Ravenclaws, you see? Fourth years, it seems. A pretty girl dropped them off to me in the laundry room…"

Next to me, Victoire gapes and furrows her brows.

"And before I put them in me wash basin I see THIS!" He procures a small satchel from one of the robes' pockets and pours its contents onto the table. A fine, silvery powder drops to the surface like a waterfall. "FLOO POWDER!"

A hundred gasps resonate throughout the hall, and people begin to point fingers at the twins. Lorcan, clearly alarmed, jumps up from his seat and cries, "It wasn't us!"

"I never mentioned names, me lad." The house elf drops the robes onto the Slytherin table and makes his way towards us. "Is your conscience acting out? Are you implying that you and your thieving brother are the ones responsible for this?"

The evidence is overwhelming, but I find it hard to believe. My talk with the twins this morning assured me that they could not be the perpetrators. There is no way. Besides, they're my friends and I truly, utterly trust them. And when I talked to them this morning, I knew they were being as sincere as any good pair of friends would be.

"Wait!" I intervene. "This is not fair!"

The elf eyes me with one of his globular, swollen spheres. "What is not fair, lassie? The fact that the entire school has to suffer because of these boys' frivolous antics?"

"No, that's not what I mean, I – "

I'm suddenly cut off by a voice from across the room.

"Allow me to handle this." McGonagall approaches my table with a grim look on her face. "Lorcan and Lysander Scamander, please follow me to my office."

"But we didn't steal it, Headmistress," Lysander retorts in a tone less outraged and more submissive than his brother's.

As McGonagall _accios _the robes and floo powder into her arms, she replies, "I am not accusing you of doing anything. I just want to investigate the problem further."

The twins reluctantly get up from their seats as I look up at them, concerned.

"Follow me please," the Headmistress demands while motioning for the twins to accompany her.

Before they could leave, however, I firmly grasp Lysander's hand and say, "I will investigate the _real_problem."

His distraught facial expressions contort into a brief smile before saying in an uncharacteristically humorless manner, "I believe in you, Lena."

I smile back, feeling as if I have sealed an oath that, if left unaccomplished, would permanently damage my sacred relationship with the twins. I then slowly let go of Lysander's hand and watch him solemnly walk away with his brother. Before leaving the Great Hall, however, I see the two of them glance back at me, perhaps signaling their faith that I must and _will_expose the correct perpetrators.

"Rubbish," I hear the house elf mumble from behind me. "The two of em. Rubbish, sodding thieves."

I feel the urge to strangle the pathetic creature, but my good conscience tells me not to do so. Instead, I yell in a fit of rage, "If anything, _you_ are the thief! _You're_ the one who stole the floo powder, and _you're_framing my friends who are completely innocent!"

The pressure of a hundred gazes bear down on me. Never before have I attracted such a large amount of attention in one setting, but during my time of explosive anger, I feel unfazed by it all.

"Me? A lowly house elf? Steal the powder? What reason would I have, me dear?" The elf asks with a hint of mischief in his voice.

At a loss of words, I silently retreat from the argument. My Ravenclaw classmates jeer at me, obviously thinking that I am a fool. Then, a strange silence pervades the Hall that is soon broken by Professor Hunter.

"Ahem," he says nervously. "I will post the list in every common room bulletin board. Please commence the dinner."

A multitude of dishes appears before us, but while my classmates begin to chow down on their favorite meals, I furtively watch the house elf apparate away with a smirk on his face.

I slowly turn to my plate which, to my surprise, is already full with mashed potatoes and turkey.

"Lena," Victoire says as she pours gravy upon my food, "Are you okay?"

"Dandy," I say sarcastically.

She picks up on my sarcasm and frowns to show her concern. "I believe in you and the twins."

I grasp my fork and knife and say in a tone both melancholy and grim, "That does not rule you out as a suspect."

* * *

><p>Throughout the four years I've known them, the twins' jubilant personalities have kept me happy, sane and alive. They have motivated me to continue through this ruddy system called school, and if it weren't for their persistent gregariousness, I probably wouldn't be here.<p>

I guess you could say that their absence has driven me mad. Victoire has noted that I've changed, and that she's never seen me irate like this before. It wasn't until I dragged her and Gwen Jones into an empty corridor after dinner that the words have begun to sink in.

I _am_getting mad.

"I… I trust you two have witnessed the dramatic scene that unfolded in the Hall just now," I introduce, feeling a bit apprehensive because I've just forced two girls who absolutely loathe each other into the same room.

"Yes, I have," Gwen says with a snarl. "_This_ woman, however, was probably too preoccupied with _herself_to notice."

I gulp. This is not turning out as I have planned.

"Excuse me? I was right next to them. _Of course_I noticed. I'm not bloody dumb," Victoire says brusquely with a glare.

"Girls, girls! Settle down please, this is not what I brought you here for." I try to appease the two by standing in between them, but my strategy is only fractionally successful.

"Really? I thought you brought us here to watch Victoire get her guts eviscerated, Lena." Gwen leans in closer to me and whispers sharply in my ear: "Why am I here?"

"Shh! Just listen to me speak!"

They manage to maintain a tense and awkward silence, but a silence nonetheless.

"Okay, Victoire, let me talk to you first."

She nods.

"What happened in the laundry room, and did you notice the floo powder in the robes beforehand?"

She shakes her head. "No, I didn't notice anything in the robes. I didn't inspect them _that_closely… Only Teddy's."

Gwen snickers and crosses her arm. Victoire, in response, shoots her a nasty look.

"Is that why you brought them down? To be with Teddy's… clothes..?" I ask uncomfortably.

"I went down because I thought Teddy would think more highly of me if I helped him with his laundry. That's all."

"He has a girlfriend, you wh-"

"Gwen, please. This is important. Anyway, describe what happened in the laundry room."

"When I arrived there I gave the robes to that ugly little house elf we saw earlier, then left."

"Did you catch his name?"

Victoire pauses to think for a moment. It takes a while, but she manages to come up with an answer. "I think I heard another elf call him Snitcher."

"Aptly named," I quip.

"Is that all?" Victoire asks abruptly.

"Yes," I say. "But please stay, I may need to ask you more questions as I talk to Gwen."

Victoire groans, but nevertheless obeys my command.

"Gwen." I turn to the Gryffindor girl beside me. "Who first told you that the twins stole the floo powder?"

"My dorm-mate, Henrietta Scot," she replies.

"Who told her?" I ask again.

Gwen shrugs. "I don't know. Do you want me to find out?"

I sigh because the situation has become more convoluted than I thought. Asking people to remember where they heard rumours is extremely unreliable, and I may not be able to pinpoint the correct perpetrator this way.

"That would be nice, thanks," I say anyway, knowing that there is no alternative to obtaining the answer.

"I'll do it then," Gwen says, "and I may be able to find out who started the rumour by tomorrow. I have nothing else to do anyway."

I smile as I realize that I'm no longer alone in this investigation. Gwen – the usually ferocious and truculent Gryffindor – has unexpectedly come to my aid. Perhaps she isn't as bad as I perceived after all.

"By the way," Gwen says as she looks at me in the eye. "Why are you doing this? Why do you care so much?"

For a brief moment, I wonder why Gwen would ask such an obvious and pointless question, but I then realize that it's something worth answering. "I believe the Scamanders have been unjustly accused of doing something they didn't really do. And, because they're very good friends of mine, I won't let such an inequity go unpunished."

Victoire, touched by my words, settles a gentle hand on my shoulder. "You are doing a good thing, Lena."

She leads me over to the nearest bench and Gwen reluctantly follows.

"They were the first friends I've ever made at Hogwarts," I confess nostalgically, "and, to be honest, I really like them. I mean, sure, they can be annoying and insensitive at times, but they've always supported me. They're the reason why I'm here."

"Touching," Gwen remarks, "but let's not get too sentimental here. I hate tears."

"No. I don't think Lena's being sentimental. She hardly cries. _I'm_usually the one that's crying," Victoire says with a chuckle.

Pacified, I look at the two of them. "Thanks. And I'm sorry for dragging you two down here. I'm just a little frustrated and can't think straight."

"It's okay," Victoire reassures me. "If anything happens, just talk to me about it. I'll help you deal with the situation."

"And I'll help you investigate the problem," Gwen adds.

I smile and embrace the two of them. Usually, I am unable to express my gratitude out of fear of appearing sentimental, but at this time, it feels appropriate to do so. And so, with the most genuine tone I could muster, I utter a single "Thank you."


	8. Chapter 8: First Blood

**CHAPTER EIGHT: First Blood**

"Lena… Lena… It's twelve o'clock! Wake up!"

At the sound of Victoire's words, my body springs itself up from the bed and groans lethargically. "Five more minutes," I plead before settling my head upon the pillow once more.

"_Aguamenti._" A jet of water bursts upon my face, prompting me fully awake in mere seconds.

"Alright, alright! What's the deal?" I cry as I move my feet to the floor.

"Teddy's downstairs waiting for you. He says that it's about time you make it to Professor Brightwood's office," Victoire replies with her arms crossed.

"Brightwood?" I put on my slippers and proceed to the wardrobe.

"Yes, Brightwood. You have a meeting with her, don't you remember?"

As I don my clothes, I say to Victoire in a more serious tone, "Yes, I remember… But I would much rather check on the Scamander twins than go to her office, honestly."

Victoire heaves a disgruntled sigh and says to me more strictly now, "The Scamanders are _fine_. Teddy said that they'll be in McGonagall's office for a while, but so far, the staff hasn't found any conclusive proof that they've stolen the floo powder. They're not being punished."

"How does Teddy know that?" I ask as I straighten my hair and pull my bangs back with a headband.

"He's just as concerned about the twins as you are, Lena."

I pause for a moment and replay her words in my head once… twice… And then suddenly, their meaning sinks into me, making me realize that the situation not only affects me and the twins, but a broad spectrum of the Hogwarts student body as well.

"Alright. I'm ready to go to Brightwood's office now."

* * *

><p>Teddy and I leave the Ravenclaw common room and walk down the hall, where Brightwood's office awaits us. The trek is short, as her office is situated on the same floor as Ravenclaw Tower, but during this relatively brief trip I manage to have a conversation with my Gryffindor comrade.<p>

"I heard you've met up with the Scamanders earlier," I begin.

"Yes I have. They're a little down in the dumps, but other than that they're perfectly fine – no scars or bruises to be seen on them at all," he responds with a smile on his face.

I smile back to show my relief and gratitude. "I really appreciate you checking up on them, Teddy. I was up all night worrying about them."

Teddy pats the crown of my head and says, "You no longer need to worry, Lena. The worst thing that could happen is that they stay in McGonagall's office for a few more days."

When we finally reach Professor Brightwood's office, we discover that its door is locked by a small, talking object hanging below its knob. It says to us in a meek, squeaky voice, "Ms. Brightwood has gone to lunch. She will be back in approximately 10.6702 minutes, so please be patient."

Teddy and I decide to wait in front of the door and pass the time with more conversation. This time, he starts it off with a question relating to the previous topic: "How did you and the Scamanders become friends?"

In order to formulate the answer, I search through the archives of my memory and pinpoint the moment I've first spoken a word to the twins. "First year," I say with a pause. "Charms class. I'm sitting next to them, and Professor Sinclaire is teaching us the Colour Change Charm. Of course, being new to magic, I'm having a little trouble with it but… Next to me, I see the Scamanders changing each other's hair to ridiculous colours."

Suddenly, I see Teddy's hair turn from mousy brown to bright turquoise. "Like this?" he says with a chuckle.

"Yes, like that!" I smile as I realize that I've almost forgotten about Teddy's metamorphic powers; perhaps I've grown accustomed to him changing his appearance so often that I hardly pay heed to it at all, or perhaps my mind's been so cluttered with other things that I forget that such a whimsical and fascinating wizard is by my side.

"Anyway…" he says, urging me to continue my recollection.

"Oh yes. Anyway, I ask the Scamanders for help, and, before accidentally changing my skin colour purple, they agree to help me, but not without a bout of boisterous laughter that's attracted the attention of everybody in the room."

"I think I may have heard about a girl with purple skin once in my third year."

"Yes, it's been talked about for a while, but Professor Sinclaire managed to turn it back to normal. Still, I think the twins expected me to be downright furious with them, but I wasn't. It was _funny_. So instead of yelling at them like they expected me to, I laughed along and turned their robes bright pink."

"Humor's a valued trait among the twins," Teddy remarks, "It's one of their most redeeming qualities. Could you imagine a Hogwarts without them?"

I sigh and shake my head. "Well, now I can, I suppose…"

The following awkward silence provoked me to ask the lock about Professor Brightwood's arrival, but before it could finish its squeaky sentence, the woman of the hour approaches us with loud and rapid footsteps.

"Mr. Lupin, Ms. Mei, what are you doing here?" she asks exasperatingly. Her twiggy arms are loaded with books, and her delicate frame seems as if it's about to collapse from all the weight. Teddy, ever the gentleman, rushes over to help carry her belongings, but the obstinate woman rejects his help and commands the door to unlock itself.

As the talking lock falls to the ground and the door creaks open, I explain the reason for my being here to Professor Brightwood. "McGonagall told me to talk to you about my grades."

"And you complied?" she asks with a grin as she enters the room. "Most students would just ignore her suggestions and go about their day as usual."

Teddy and I follow Brightwood into her office, which is decorated with birdcages, pottery, plants and quirky antiques. Just as soon as we approach her desk, however, a large goose jumps up from behind it and emits several ear-piercing honks.

"Elsie, Elsie! Calm down, they're just students!" Brightwood settles her books on her desk, shoos the bird away and persuades it to quiet down. Meanwhile, Teddy and I turn to each other with amused and frightened looks on our faces, as if silently asking ourselves why we hadn't expected the fowl to pop up on us in the first place. Elsie is, after all, famous for her droll presence within the classroom. "Just give me a second, you two. My office is a mess, I'm sorry."

I nod understandingly as Teddy carries a chair over to Brightwood's desk. He offers me to sit down, and I do so courteously.

Meanwhile, Brightwood mutters a string of complaints under her breath, saying something along the lines of "Everything in this castle goes missing… Everything!" which prompts me to ask what's wrong.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I'm just… stressed out. I can't find my wand, which I _know_is around here somewhere… And everybody's worrying about the floo powder incident and all. It's crazy! It's all just crazy!"

"Has any progress been made in tracking down the perpetrators?" Teddy asks.

"They caught the Scamander twins, if you consider _that_progress. Honestly, I think they're too innocuous to be guilty. I mean, yes, they're pranksters but –"

"We _know_, Professor, we were there." A little chagrined by her ramblings, I try to change the topic and ask if I could help her find her wand so that I could get out of her musty office as quickly as possible. The professor, surprised by my sudden offer of assistance, agrees and steps back to watch me _accio_the wand onto the desk. But, after a few moments of nothing happening, Brightwood asks me to cast the spell again.

I get up from my seat and face the exit so that I could get a good view of her entire room. With another swish of my wand, I expect the missing object to finds its way towards me, but, once again, nothing happens.

"I'm sorry, professor," I say defeatedly.

"No no, it's alright. You did your best, , and I appreciate that. Now, have a seat." As Brightwood settles herself in the large chair across of me, she waves to Teddy and politely asks him to leave the room. Teddy acquiesces and tells me that he'll be waiting by the door until I come out.

"Now, what should be discuss first…" She sifts through a pile of papers, and finds the one she's looking for not far from the top of the stack. "Lena. Lena Mei, is it?"

"Yes," I say timidly. I could feel my stomach churn out of nervousness, because conversations about my grades have never quite pleased me.

"You know, I _adore_your house, and when I found out that you were a Ravenclaw I couldn't possibly ignore you. And, during your first year, you showed all the characteristics of a Ravenclaw student: bright, intelligent, and sharp-witted; but during your second year and onwards you just…"

"Stopped caring."

"… yes. Why?" She leans forward and waits for me to answer. Her eyes scrutinize my facial expressions, my movements, and my subconscious gestures, perturbing me to the point where I startle and find myself at a loss of words.

"I… Uh… You see, second year… I just…" Unable to draw out the proper words, I ask her to give me some space, and she does so with an apology.

"Take your time, Lena. I'm here to help you, not embarrass you."

I exhale all the apprehension out of my system, and with my composure regained, I try to find the best words to start my explanation with. "Well you see, my parents are extremely _pushy_. I mean, my mom especially, she's very, very overbearing. It's like no matter what I do, they're not satisfied at all. They always say I should do better when I'm trying my darn-well best in everything I do, but if I say that to them they'll just gripe and bicker and compare me to _someone else_and…"

Suddenly, my rant is interrupted by the faint sound of screaming. Brightwood and I look around the room to sense where it came from, but none of us have a clue about its origins.

"Should I… continue..?" I ask anxiously. I had just gotten in the mood to reveal all of my pent-up insecurities and frustrations to Brightwood, but the sudden scream replaced it with an unnerving and disquieted atmosphere.

"… yes. Go ahead." Brightwood, too, seems alarmed by the noise, but has probably dismissed it as something trivial.

"… okay, anyways. I come from a culture where one's merits determine…"

We hear the scream again, and several others accompany it soon after. But, halfway through the fourth bawl, a spell must have been cast to silence it, because everything abruptly becomes eerily quiet.

"What could that be?" Curious now, Brightwood stands up and makes her way to the exit. I follow suit, equally as inquisitive as she is. Before she touches the knob, however, the door bursts open to reveal Teddy, who is pointing at something out of our line of sight and tells us that he's going to investigate the problem.

"Wait, Teddy! Not so fast! There may be something dangerous out there!" Brightwood warns as she and I step over the threshold and lock the door.

Teddy, however, disobeys Brightwood's commands, sprints down the hall and towards a crowd of students who are just as eager as we are to know where the screaming has come from.

* * *

><p>I've never known what blood smelled like. Heck, I didn't even know that its stench would be so strong until I reached the trophy room on the third floor. There, I see a number of students crowding around the morbid scene, buzzing with a look of both fear and sick fascination on their faces.<p>

My heart palpitates as Teddy, Brightwood and I tread closer to the focal point and the fetor of blood grows stronger to my senses. Dread and curiosity overwhelm me because I can hear the whispers and rumours among the crowd that claim that three muggle-borns have been murdered. Could it possibly be the people that first come to my mind?

I finally breach the last row of people in the throng, and, upon examining the situation, I emit a low, almost inaudible sound: "Wayne..?"

Unable to contain the shock and terror that has deluged my body, I yell out despairingly and sprint towards Wayne's gored-up figure, but Teddy holds me back and warns: "Don't touch them. There's a lot of dark magic around here."

"Let go! Let go! I need to see if they're still alive!" Tears run down my flushed cheeks as I kick and struggle in a feeble effort to release myself from Teddy's grasp. With every attempt he makes to pacify me, I cry and curse at him without a hint of modesty or hesitation. After all, how dare he restrain me when he knows full well that our classmates lie before us in a pool of their own blood? How dare he tell me to quiet down when the boy I desperately yearn for is ravaged mere inches away from me, and probably still capable of hearing my cries and pleas for his life to return to him? "Teddy, you don't understand! I _know_these people!"

"Calm down, Lena," Professor Brightwood says as she fearlessly walks towards the disfigured bodies and crouches down to inspect them. "They're all alive."

The crowd heaves a sigh of relief, but I am not yet satisfied. Their wounds are still open, their eyes still swollen, their bodies still bruised and their lips still silent. How could I possibly trust Brightwood's words if I haven't examined the situation myself?

"It looks like a few curses were dealt upon them. Conjunctivitis, body-binding, sectumsempra… If I had a wand, I _could_patch up their injuries." She looks around the crowd, expecting someone to lend her a wand, but instead, a male professor volunteers to heal them himself.

"Ah, Professor Fancourt. I'm glad you're here." Brightwood stands up and makes some room for her colleague to perform the healing spell. Then, she notices that another professor has come to their aid as well. "Kaemon, too? We're blessed."

"The school's been in shambles lately and if there's anything I can do to help, I'd do it." He pulls out his wand and lowers himself to Wayne's body as Fancourt finishes healing Benny's last wound.

I watch in interest as they chant the song-like spell and patch up the wounds on the students' bodies. It's a long process, but when the last of the wounds have been healed, the school nurse finally arrives to survey the damages.

"Cursed? It's amazing how they survived such a deadly myriad of spells." The nurse shakes her head, orders everybody to clear out, and carries Alex's body while Fancourt and Kaemon carry the others down the hall.

"Will they be okay?" I ask Brightwood, more calm than I was before.

"With some time in the Hospital Wing, they'll be fine." She notices my distraught expression, and tells Teddy to let go of my arms. "Everything will be okay."

As the crowd disperses, Brightwood embraces me and strokes my hair as I sob and whimper over the situation that has befallen us. Teddy, meanwhile, seems eager to help, but stands back and watches the professor solace me, probably because he doesn't want to be caught in an awkward position with a junior and a professor.

As he watches, however, his eyes wander to the scarlet lake below us and notice clumps of a peculiar material soaked within its shores.

"Hey, guys..?" Teddy interrupts, only meaning to shift our attention to the discovery he's made. "Is that..?"

I turn to look at what he's pointing at, and I gasp. "Floo powder!" The fine flecks of granular matter are no doubt the same item the Scamanders have been accused of stealing. Upon realizing this, I now have to force myself to think harder. What started out as a mere thievery and fraud case has transformed into an investigation on attempted manslaughter.


End file.
